


Hide and Dude-Where-Are-You?

by cleverqueen



Series: Inspired Microfictions [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Future Fic, Parkour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 20:55:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4194576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleverqueen/pseuds/cleverqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Back from college for the summer, Stiles drags Scott to the preserve to play hide-and-seek. Derek has come home recently and joins in. Written pre-S5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hide and Dude-Where-Are-You?

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by Princess K-T, who gave me the prompt "Stiles Stilinski, dawn, smooth."

Was it unfair to play hide-and-seek with a sleepy werewolf? Maybe, but that’s what best friends were for. Werewolves thought they were soooo smooth. And sure, maybe they had natural physical abilities, but the very human Stiles Stilinski had seriously upped his game while he’d been away at college.

Okay, the parkour he’d been practicing wasn’t as obviously a game as lacrosse. There weren’t any home games or team uniforms. His dad didn’t get to come to matches or anything like that.

But, dude. _Parkour._ It was seriously badass. And also? Great for keeping up with werewolves.

Because now that it was summer break, Stiles had to organize his own training, and he’d woken Scott up to do it with him.

“You okay, buddy?” Stiles leaned against the cool metal side of his Jeep, waiting for Scott to stumble out. Yeah, okay. Maybe he’d woken Scott up so that he could show off.

This fine June morning, light filtered in through the trees to make yellow Rorschach blots on the dirt. The preserve smelled like the mulch that the city had recently spread. Birds chirped so happily, Stiles could tell no Argents had been out to shoot them down for target practice lately. He would ask Scott about whether there’d been _any_ Argents around during the school year, but... well... no he wouldn’t.

Scott finally tumbled to the ground, landing in a crouch. “Ow!” He shook out his hand and glared at the stick he’d landed on.

No way was Stiles’ best friend getting out of this _that_ easily. “Awww, is the poor little wolfie too wounded to play?”

Scott growled. “Take your head start, human.” His eyes flashed red.

With a jaunty wave, Stiles jogged off into the preserve. Sticks and leaves crunched under his Feiyue sneakers— _perfect for kung-fu and parkour_ —but he didn’t worry about the noise. He was about to prove that humans could do whatever supernaturals could do, so long as they had the time and practice. Just like Batman kept up with all those cheaters in the Justice League.

Between one step and the next, he was halfway up a tree. The first footfall had been on solid ground, the second at knee-height. He’d popped up and up till he could wrap an elbow over a branch. It scratched pink lines into his upper arm but didn’t break the skin. Perfectly balanced, he walked halfway down the bough and stilled to hiding-silence. It was just like being on a pipe at the gym, only with more grip.

“Ready or not, here I come!” yelled Scott. “You’re going down, bro.”

Maybe it was stupid to challenge a werewolf to hide-and-seek, but Stiles knew Scott would never think to look up for his human friend. At least, not till he heard Stiles’ heartbeat. And, honestly, Stiles was looking forward to the tag portion more than the hiding portion. Because he couldn’t be caught until Scott tapped him on the shoulder. That was just how hide-and-seek worked. Had worked, ever since they were kids. Good luck to Scott catching him now, even with his cheating werewolf reflexes.

A scrabbling at the tree trunk shook Stile’s branch, and he let himself sway with it. Had Scott found him already?

A werewolf landed in the V of the trunk and limb, as if it had jumped from a great height. Stiles squinted against the rising sun through a tree break and saw that it certainly wasn’t Scott.

“This is private property,” Derek lisped through his fangs.

On the ground, Scott hollered, “Aha! I can totally hear you, Stiles. Ready or not, here I come!”

In the tree, Stiles padded to Derek, feet curled to grip the branch and not make an idiot of himself by falling out. He reached a hand to pet the ridiculous amount of sideburn, amazing after all these years... “What’re you doing back in Beacon Hills? I thought you’d left for good.” Stiles lacked impulse control. Oops. Sorry not sorry.

Derek stayed utterly still under his ministrations. And wasn’t that Derek Hale all over? Don’t tell you no, don’t tell you yes, just appear out of nowhere and maintain a cryptic silence while you do stupid things like pet his sideburns.

Scott roared from the ground underneath their tree, hands on his hips and eyes bright red in frustration. “Oh my god, where are you?” Somehow, the alpha hadn’t improved his tracking skills while Stiles had been away. They’d have to work on that this summer.

After an almost imperceptible nudge into Stiles’ still-petting hand— _Had that really happened? Did Derek remember what affection looked like? Was it just a preparatory movement for a jump?_ —Derek leapt to the preserve’s floor right in front of Scott. He landed with knees bent and blue eyes ablaze. One clawed finger poked the center of Scott’s chest. “Tag, you’re It,” he said, before transforming into a huge black wolf, haloed in the early morning light, that took off into the dense green and brown undergrowth.

“Hey!” Scott yelled, turning in a circle. “That’s not fair. And where’s Stiles?”

Smirking, Stiles ran along his tree branch and curled into a roll that would take him safely to the ground. “Catch me if you can!” He bounced to his feet and dashed off at a right angle to Derek’s cold-and-getting-colder path. He spied a tree stump he could use as a stepping stone to vault over a rotting sequoia limb before ducking under a tent pole some obnoxious camper had left behind.

Scott might be a werewolf, but he hadn’t trained to run fast over all sorts of terrain and think three steps ahead. That’d make his movements way less smooth than Stiles’. And in supernatural freeze tag, smoothness counted for precious seconds.

It was dawn! They had all day left to play. Stiles was never going to be It.

**Author's Note:**

> I've totally done... a teeny tiny bit of parkour. Stiles owns Feiyue shoes because I do.


End file.
